


Vengeance Isn't Always Sweet

by Eros_thanatos89



Series: Recipe for Rue [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:43:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eros_thanatos89/pseuds/Eros_thanatos89
Summary: He still loved Hannibal; that he couldn't deny. He was drawn to the man, as fatally as a moth to flame. He also hated him more intensely than he'd ever hated anyone before. Of course, no one had ever framed him for serial murders before. Driven awake by the wasp-stings of his thoughts,  Will began to formulate a plot for a small measure of revenge.





	1. one

    Will Graham ran his hand along the bars of his telephone box sized cage, feeling like a tiger in a claustrophobic zoo, or more poignantly, a freak on display in a sideshow. His audience, the man who had briefly been his greatest solace, was now the source of all of his misery: Hannibal Lecter. Will's heart contracted painfully in his chest.  
" What do you want?" he mumbled, too exhausted and listless to channel the rage that coiled in his guts like a tangle of garter snakes.  
A small smile tugged at the corners of Hannibal's lips. Will clenched his teeth.  
  "I only want to talk to you, Will. To see how you're coping. And whether you're still under the delusion that I am responsible for the murders."  
   Will shook his head. "Don't play me for a fool, Dr. Lecter" he said softly. "We both know it's not a delusion. I simply don't have any evidence to support the truth." He shrugged. "Of course, that could change soon. Dr. Chilton is helping me recover some memories. It's been...enlightening." He bared his teeth in an attempt at a smile that more closely resembled a snarl. "As for how I'm coping, I'll hazard you can guess, doctor." He rested his forehead against the bars, locking eyes with his former ad hoc therapist, confidant, and lover. His eyes traced the curve of Hannibal’s lips, now drawn in a grim line, recalling the way they used to feel against his skin...Best to stop that train of thought in its tracks; it would only lead to misery.  
   Will closed his eyes, letting his mind take him away to the safe, serene stream where his only concern was to wait for a fish to bite his line. He could almost feel the cool water licking at his hips. The rest of his short visit with Hannibal faded into background noise, until the doctor’s back disappeared from his view, leaving him both relieved and bereft. Will let out a breath he hardly realized he’d been holding, slumping against the walls of his cage. He tilted his eyes up to the ceiling, imagining his unseen psychiatrist somewhere watching and listening like a paternalistic god. “I’m ready to go back to my cell, Dr. Chilton” he declared to the light fixtures.

*****

    Will gasped as Hannibal’s lips traced a line down his neck, then his teeth sunk in just hard enough to muddle the distinction between pain and pleasure. Hannibal thrust deeply into him at a relentless pace, his hip bones snapping against Will’s ass, sure to leave blooms of bruises. Will reached to grasp the sheet, but recoiled when his hand met cold, clammy flesh. He looked down in growing horror as it dawned on him that he and Hannibal were fucking not in a bed, but on a pile of corpses. Above him, Hannibal’s patrician features had been replaced by the ink-black stag creature, its antlers and inscrutable face casting a shadow over Will. He screamed. And woke, half hard, covered in sweat, and shaking uncontrollably. Will’s gaze careened around his drab cell, struggling in the darkness to orient himself. He forced himself to take deep, slow breaths.  
   Will buried his face in his hands, wiping the sweat from his brow and pressing his jaw to release the tension that had locked it tight. He curled into a ball, fighting back alternating waves of nausea and desire. For a moment he allowed himself to wallow in the mire of his conflicting feelings. He still loved Hannibal; that he couldn't deny. He was drawn to the man, as fatally as a moth to flame. He also hated him more intensely than he'd ever hated anyone before. Of course, no one had ever framed him for serial murders before. Driven awake by the wasp-stings of his thoughts, Will began to formulate a plot for a small measure of revenge.


	2. two

     “Good morning, Will.” Dr. Chilton chirped in his typically smug tone, as if he didn't notice how haggard and sleepless his patient appeared. _Ass._ Will forced a polite smile, and inclined his head in greeting. “Dr. Chilton.”

    “I thought I'd join you for breakfast today,” Chilton continued, “and then we could resume our excavation of your memories.” Chilton tapped his temple with his gleaming silver cane and winked conspiratorially at Will. _Idiot._ But, he slid a tray into the cell bearing real coffee, intended for human consumption, and pastries from a local bakery. Will seized the offering gratefully. Nothing made him miss the simple pleasures of freedom more than the swill that passed for food in the hospital. That, and thinking of his dogs.

   “Thank you” he said heartily, this time gracing his self-important psychiatrist with a genuine smile.Will took a bite of a croissant and had to stifle a moan. He glanced sheepishly at Chilton, and noted that the man seemed pleased.

   “Thank you again, Doctor Chilton, truly. This is an unexpected pleasure,” Will said, “but I don't think I'm up to hypnotherapy today. I have something a bit more…. unorthodox in mind.” He fixed the doctor with a shrewd gaze, waiting to see if he'd take the bait. As he'd hoped, Chilton was intrigued by the use of his favorite buzzword. “Go on” the doctor prompted him, waving his hand invitingly.

    “I want to see Doctor Lecter today.” A flash of irritation crossed Chilton’s face, but Will held up a placating hand. “It's not what you think,” he assured the second-rate psychiatrist, “our deal still stands. You have exclusive rights to my treatment.” Then, carefully forcing a breezy, casual tone, he remarked “Doctor Lecter has a very keen sense of smell.”

   Chilton quirked a brow at him in obvious confusion. Will took a breath to steel himself, then pressed on with his gambit. “I want him to smell you on me.” He explained. Then more bluntly, “I want you to fuck me.”

   Doctor Chilton choked on his coffee and spluttered comically. “What?” He croaked. Will nodded solemnly.

  “I want to make him jealous, to see if he'll lose his composure. Maybe if I can tip him off balance, he'll admit something he shouldn't.” Will shrugged, trying to project a nonchalance he didn't feel. Trying to act as if wringing a confession from Hannibal was his true motive, not petty revenge.

   Chilton stood silently for what seemed a very protracted time. Will fidgeted, waiting for him to say something, anything. At last, the head psychiatrist of Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane stammered “You and Hannibal were in a, um, _sexual_ relationship? I never… I mean… You're obviously both obsessed with each other.. .To an unhealthy degree.. .But I never, uh…”

   Will rolled his eyes. “Oh, Doctor Chilton,” he chided, his voice thick with mockery, “if you hadn't puzzled that together yet, you're not nearly as perceptive as you think you are.” It seemed that half of the FBI had either known or suspected. Jack had never said anything to Will on the subject, but the long evaluating looks he cast at the two of them whenever they were together said enough. How had this supposedly prestigious shrink missed it?

   Chilton blithely ignored the slight. He straightened his tie, struggling to compose himself, and said very seriously, “it's an… interesting… idea Will, but I'm afraid it's completely unethical. If I were to do something like that-- which I wouldn't--I would lose my job. Probably even my license.” He shrugged apologetically at Will and spread his hands as if to say _what can you do?_

   Will reached through the gap in his cell bars and stroked Chilton’s wrist lightly. He'd considered that Chilton might not be interested in him, could even be completely heterosexual, but there was something effete about the man, and Will felt that the chance was good enough to keep trying. “I wouldn't tell a soul,” he said huskily. “I have no reason to blackmail you. You're the only person who believes that I might be innocent. Let alone considers the possibility that Hannibal could be guilty.” He smiled ruefully,“I'm completely depending on you, Doctor .”

   He gazed at Chilton from beneath lowered eyelashes, trying his best to project a Noir damsel in distress sultriness. It seemed to work, because Chilton grasped his hand and stroked his palm. “Perhaps we ought to talk in my office,” he said thickly.


	3. three

    The door to Frederick Chilton’s office clicked shut, and in the quiet, the pounding of his own pulse seemed deafening to Will.  Before he could change his mind, he stepped forward, closing the distance between the doctor and himself by planting a firm kiss to Chilton’s lips. The other man stood as if frozen for a moment, then returned the kiss feverishly, pulling Will flush against him.  Will held onto Chilton tightly, closing his eyes as his tongue explored the warm wet cave of Chilton's mouth. The silken slide of the doctor's suit under his fingers and the scent of his expensive cologne was achingly familiar. Will snapped his eyes open to ground himself,  taking in the dark hair and handsome enough features of Dr. Chilton, a man who laughably overrated his skill in psychiatry, and whom Will did not particularly care for. 

    Urgent to get on with it, Will tore at the buttons of Chilton's blue linen jacket. The doctor shrugged out of it, and Will continued with his white dress shirt, fumbling hastily at the buttons and trailing kisses down his chest. Chilton's soft gasps, and the way he ground his hips against him filled Will with an impish sort of pleasure.  _ If only you could see me now, Hannibal, pleasuring this man you completely disdain.  _ Will dropped to his knees and ran his hands up Chilton's thighs, tracing patterns against his slate gray slacks.  He tugged impatiently at the doctor’s belt and threw it aside, sliding his zip down and reaching into the waistband of his underwear to grasp Chilton's cock.

   “Fuck,” Chilton groaned, grabbing Will's shoulder to steady himself.  Will stroked Chilton's dick languidly, almost studiously, noting it's heft and warmth in his hand. It was a good cock, Will decided, long and thick. The slightly olive toned skin was flushed,  precome glistening at the tip. Will bent his head and lapped up the drop of pearly liquid, earning a groan from the doctor. Will wrapped his lips around the head of Chilton's dick, and sucked, teasing at it with his tongue. Chilton fisted his fingers in Will's curls, “Jesus, Will” he moaned.  Encouraged, Will took Chilton’s cock deeply into his throat, lavishing its length with varying pressure and swirls of his tongue. He breathed in Chilton's heady scent, his hands kneading the doctor's ass while his mouth was hard at work. 

   Chilton moaned and bucked his hips deeper into that lovely mouth. He grasped Will's hair tightly and pulled his head down further onto his cock. Will choked briefly when the doctor's girth hit the back of his throat. A memory flashed violently before his eyes: Hannibal looming above him, shoving a plastic tube down his fevered throat. A sick parody of the act he was performing now.  He wondered if that thought had occurred to Hannibal while he was doing it, and if he had enjoyed that. Will clung to Chilton's hips and forced himself back into the present, focusing on the salty taste of Chilton's skin, the velvety hardness of the doctor's cock in his mouth. He increased his pace, sucking as deeply as he could. Soon after, Chilton was quaking and swearing, filling his mouth with hot, bitter cum. Will swallowed it down and licked his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the indent of each of Chilton's hip bones, and gazed up at the psychiatrist.  Chilton smiled shakily and petted Will’s head. “Dear God. That was… incredible,” he said, stroking Will's cheek fondly. “Good,” Will answered with a wolfish smile, “we're not done yet, Frederick.” 

  He stood and crossed the room,  lifting a tumbler of whiskey from Chilton's desk and pouring two glasses. He handed one to Chilton and they clinked their glasses. Will leaned back against Chilton's desk and swirled the whiskey in his mouth, savoring its peaty, smoky flavor. The man had good taste in booze, he had to hand that to him.   

   While Will gave Chilton a moment to recover, he paced the doctor's office, examining the tasteful black and white landscape photographs, the handsome leatherbound psychology texts on the bookshelves, the elegant hourglass and objet d’art on the desk, and the framed certificates proving the man's credentials as first a surgeon, then a psychiatrist.  _ I guess I have a type,  _ he thought with dark humor. Will gulped down the last of his whiskey and turned his attention back to Chilton. 

   Doctor Chilton was leaning back against his desk, watching Will's progress around the room, still looking a bit weak in the knees. He'd zipped his slacks again, but had removed his shirt, and his taut olive chest and abs glistened with sweat, Will noted appreciatively. He stepped between Chilton's thighs and plucked the glass of whiskey from the doctor's hand, leaning down to kiss him softly and slowly. The kiss quickly built heat and intensity, and Will moaned into Chilton's mouth, kneading his thighs. Chilton broke the kiss and Will sighed, then hummed in pleasure as the doctor kissed his neck. Will pressed his hips against Chilton's and whimpered as the doctor's teeth lightly scraped his neck and along his stubbled jawline. Will mewled softly when Chilton grabbed his ass, and he ground his erection shamelessly against the doctor's groin. “Fuck me, Doctor” Will pleaded, surprised by the neediness in his voice. 

   Chilton didn't need to be told twice. He yanked down the zipper of Will’s dark blue hospital jumpsuit. Will stepped impatiently out of it when it pooled at his feet. Chilton's dark brown eyes raked hungrily over him, now wearing only form-fitting white boxer briefs. Will lifted his chin, meeting the psychiatrist’s gaze with equal heat. Without a word, Chilton stood and manhandled Will. He grasped him by one arm and the nape of his neck, and spun him around, bending him face-down against the desk, ass up in the air. Will gasped, shocked by how turned on he was by the sudden roughness. He pushed his ass back against Chilton's hardness, panting as the doctor kissed and licked down the column of his spine. “You're delicious, Will” Chilton breathed in his ear, and Will shivered. 

  “Please,” Will said, struggling not to beg, “fuck me now, Doctor Chilton.” The doctor chuckled and delivered a stinging slap to Will's ass, making him jump slightly. 

  “Eager, aren't you?” Chilton tutted, wagging his finger at Will. Will would have been angry if it weren't so true. He nodded silently. “Stay there,” Chilton instructed in a tone that brooked no argument, as he walked around to the other side of the desk. Will remained where he was, pressing his flaming cheek against the desk and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Tremors of anticipation ran through him, making his limbs quake like strings under a harpist’s deft fingers. Soon, he felt the press of Chilton's hips against him again, and the doctor's fingers soothingly rubbing his waist and back. 

   “I'm afraid I don't keep lube in the office,” Chilton said apologetically,  “lotion will have to do.” Will nodded wordlessly again. “I, um, also don't happen to keep condoms handy at work. It's generally not necessary. I hope that's alright,” the psychiatrist explained. Will nodded, “I don't care,” he said gruffly. 

“Good,” Chilton replied, and grasped him tightly by the nape again, biting down sharply at the juncture of Will's neck and shoulder. Will moaned, excited by the return of Chilton's rough play. 

   The doctor tugged Will's underwear down and Will spread his legs a little wider, pushing his ass out. He closed his eyes again, awash with lust and shame, feeling rather whorish and unsure of who was using whom. Chilton massaged the globes of Will's ass, causing Will's knees to tremble, and breathy little moans to fall from his lips. Then the doctor ran a lotion slicked finger between his cheeks and pressed it gently into Will's opening. Will keened, pressing back onto the doctor's finger. “Fuck, you're so tight,” Chilton growled, “so hot.” Will whimpered and bucked his hips. 

  “More,” he whispered, urging Chilton on. Chilton growled again and added another finger, then another, stretching Will. “Now,” Will moaned, not caring anymore how desperate he seemed. It had been so long since he'd been touched. Chilton obliged him,  pressing the tip of his cock into Will slowly and gently. Will grit his teeth at the initial burn, then slowly began to rock back against the doctor. Chilton slowly pushed into him until his dick was completely inside of Will, and the doctor's hip points connected with Will’s ass. Chilton hissed, and stayed there for a beat. “You feel fucking fantastic, Will” he said huskily. Will made a small noise of assent and rocked his hips. Chilton took the hint and began withdrawing almost all the way out and then thrusting back in, slowly at first, and then faster, harder. Will was moaning loudly now, unable to help himself. Chilton grunted with pleasure,  his breath hot against the back of Will's neck.

  Chilton scratched down Will's back and sides with his fingers, alternating featherlight touches and sharp scratches. The doctor changed his angle so his cock was consistently hitting Will's prostate as he thrust into him. “Fuck” Will groaned, “fuckfuckfuck.” He panted, lost in sensation. It felt so good to be thoroughly fucked by someone other than Hannibal;  to have Hannibal driven (almost) completely from his mind. Chilton stroked Will's cock as he thrust into him. “God, you feel so good, Will,” he growled, biting Will's shoulder, “Come for me.”

   “Yes,” Will panted, “yes, yes. Oh fuck, Doctor, come inside of me.” Chilton slammed hard into him. His hips ground down into the hard edge of the desk, Chilton's hand was working his cock, and Chilton's dick was hitting his prostate over and over again. It was all too much. Will came with a cry, coating Chilton's hand, his body shaking like he would fall apart.  Chilton thrust into him a few more times, and then came with a groan, filling Will with his spunk. The doctor lay against him for a moment, kissing his back softly and licking sweat from his skin. “Wow,” Chilton breathed. 

    “Mmmm. That was good,” Will muttered. Satiated and physically exhausted, he could feel himself slipping into a warm glow. After awhile, Chilton peeled himself off of Will. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out some tissues, carefully wiping the sticky residue away from Will and himself. 

Chilton poured some whiskey and handed a glass to Will. He gazed into Will's striking blue eyes, pupils wide and lids drooping sleepily. “Beautiful,” he whispered, stroking sweat soaked curls from Will's brow.  


	4. four

   The vast room seemed even larger in its emptiness,  a seemingly endless stretch of barred cubicles. Except for the one containing Will Graham. He was abuzz with nerves. His body, concealed in the dark hospital jumpsuit,  still bore the marks and delicious soreness from fucking his psychiatrist, and he was lightheaded. He felt like a balloon about to come untethered and float away. When his guest,  Dr. Hannibal Lecter, entered the room, Will stood up straighter and held onto the bars of his cage to steady himself. 

   “You asked to see me, Will.” Hannibal said,  his rich, cultured voice with its slight accent thrilling Will, as always.  

   “Yes. Thank you for coming.” 

Hannibal approached his cage,  crossing the line meant to keep distance between patients and visitors. Hannibal stopped a few feet short of Will's cage. He stood very still, his nostrils flaring slightly, head canted at a slight angle. Will's heart began to hammer against his breastbone. He tightened his grip on the bars.  

 “You could have showered before meeting with me, Will. That's very rude of you.” Hannibal's tone was light, his face carefully neutral, but Will could hear the tension in his voice, could see the hard set of his jaw,the darkness in his amber brown eyes. Hannibal looked beautiful when he was angry, and terrifying.  _ Go on, ask me you bastard.  _ Will didn't want to say  anything about his tryst, not until Hannibal brought it up. He stared at Hannibal, lifting an eyebrow at him. 

   Hannibal stepped closer. Will could touch the velvet collar of his Burberry coat if he wanted to. The man looked elegant as ever, his blond hair gelled meticulously, a burgundy shirt and black vest under his long gray coat complementing his skin.  Hannibal leaned in closer still, almost pressing his face against the bars of Will's cage, and now Will could detect the doctor's scent, something piney and faintly spicy that evoked images of deep forest. Hannibal inhaled deeply, that habit of smelling Will that always disconcerted and excited him. 

Will kept his mouth resolutely shut. Hannibal narrowed his eyes at him. The faint jump of muscles along his jaw and the steely set of his shoulders told Will that Hannibal was fighting an inner battle. At last, he gave in and whispered, “who have you been fucking, Will?” 

   A bolt of triumph shot through Will and he lifted his  chin defiantly. “Chilton,” he said with a little shrug. “You know, he’s a surprisingly good lay. Great cock.” 

 

  Hannibal frowned. “Frankly Will,  I'm more insulted by your choice of partners than your infidelity. Chilton. Really?  That buffoon doesn't deserve to fumble with your mind, let alone touch you.” 

 Will shrugged again. “There aren't many other options around here, Hannibal” he pointed out drily. “And he is my doctor. He does take  _ very _ good care of me, in my unstable state.” 

  Hannibal scoffed.  “Is this the only reason you asked to speak with me, then, Will?  To rub your fling in my face?” Hannibal took a step back, beginning to pivot on his heel, as if to leave.

“Wait!  Don't leave, Hannibal” Will said, carefully modulating his voice to sound placating and calm, not to betray his desperation.  Lecter stepped close again, wearing a patient expression. 

   “You were supposed to be my lifeline.” Will said softly, “you were supposed to anchor me to reality, not let me get lost in the darkness. I was counting on you.” He paused for a moment, struggling to keep his emotions in check.  “Instead, you betrayed my trust in the worst possible ways, Hannibal. You manipulated me, made me question my sanity--my own identity. You killed those girls, Hannibal! Abigail! Cassie. Marissa. Georgia. And Doctor Sutcliffe. Thanks to your expert care, everyone thinks  I’m a psychotic murderer. And you abandoned me here.” 

   Clutching his bars, Will breathed deeply, fighting to choke back tears. Hannibal was watching him with the removed curiosity of an ornithologist studying a bird with a broken wing. Against his own judgement, Will lobbed a final accusation at Lecter. “You made me fall in love with you.” he said, bitterly. Hannibal reached to grasp his hand through the bars, but Will jerked back as far as he could,  his back flush against the other wall of the narrow cubicle. 

   “Oh, Will,” Hannibal said softly, “My only aim is to awaken you to your true nature. You’re more like me than you think. You need to see that in yourself, to become the hunter you were born to be.” 

   Will shook his head. “You're deranged, Hannibal. You hide it so well. You have everyone eating from your palm. But I'm not like you. I'm nothing like you.” 

   Hannibal studied Will's face carefully. “Come with me, Will.” He breathed, in the barest whisper. “I could find a way to get you out of this place. We could disappear before Jack,  or any of them could trace us. Come with me.” He held out his hand. 

  Will wanted desperately to take it,  to find solace once again in Hannibal’s arms, in his bed. To be free again. But he couldn’t forgive Hannibal for what he had done. And he couldn’t become what Hannibal needed him to be. “I’m sorry,” he said, “You know I can’t. This will have to be goodbye, Hannibal.” 

  Hannibal seized his hand, kissed his palm through the bars. He stroked Will’s face, and Will let his eyes fall closed, leaning into the touch. When he opened them again, they were swimming with tears. 

  “We shall see each other again, Will.” Hannibal said, then turned to go. 

   When the sound of his footsteps had completely faded away, Will slumped to the ground and buried his head in his arms. 


End file.
